


Iterations

by Nerdpaw



Series: Hypotheticals/Headcanons [1]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Origin Story, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 03:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdpaw/pseuds/Nerdpaw
Summary: The Lord of Shades had been forgotten, as they are old. An old, collective being that grows with each molt and remembrance. The first was forgettable, but his hold is there, and he will make sure that the newest will remember that.





	Iterations

He was small for his kind.

His frame was that of a runt, but smaller. All around him could crush him, and all were aware of that. Pity turned to scorn as he continued to live despite his growth ceasing.

When it was time to feed the pit of void, it was no surprise he was chosen as the meal. There would be no loss. He accepted his role willingly. For an entire day people treated with care, as though he was a king. It was... Nice.

But then the feast came. He stood before the void, almost hearing a whisper. It wanted him closer.

But the ritual was occurring.

If he moved this could end terribly.

But...

Who cares.

He walked clear past the preacher as he spoke rites. The voices grew stronger as he stepped away from all others, closer to the sea. There was a dull call from his people.

Who cares.

They should've seen the signs. The void was impatient.

He turned to look at the giants before he tugged into the sea. They were mortified, full of fear, and he enjoyed that he was the cause as he was swept into darkness. He had gone deaf from the dark, its whispers making his ears ring as the cold enveloped him.

It was a comfortable cold, he found. The sea felt like a blanket. He opened his eyes, realizing he had shut them, and laid witness to the bottom. The masks of thousands before him, small like him or perhaps merely dumb enough to seek out the dark, all littered the void. But the sockets glowed as he gave them his attention.

He became aware of the fact he was not disappearing. He was not suffering.

In fact, he felt at home.

He felt as though he should've been here all along.

He started to return to the surface, suddenly acutely aware of life outside, hearing once more as panic spilled over the surface of the dark. It was dying down though, until he breached the surface.

He could feel the fear as the attention of his prior 'family' was drawn to him.

He was different now.

He was bigger, several times his old size. His solid size. Instincts were sharpened, perhaps even altered. He felt a ravenous hunger.

An endless hunger.

A void inside of him.

It needed to be filled.

He needed what was his back.

He was the void's vessel. Its form. Its lord. Its being.

And they were collectively starving as they swept over the sources of panic, commanding all others to praise them. To recount their wrongs to the belittled. The brave got their last chance to serve before they succumb or flee.

He will bathe this place in darkness. Light has no home here. Never shall it end him, for he is the void, and the void takes all.


End file.
